Almost Had It All
by UA
Summary: She dreams Miguel marries her, and they raise their baby-a daughter-together.    Kay/Miguel but still very much Charity/Miguel, mentions of Sam/Grace, Ethan/Theresa, Sheridan/Luis, Jessica, Noah, Paloma, more
1. Chapter 1

**~1~**

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><p><strong>Title: <strong>**(**_Almost__**) **__Had It All  
><em>**Rating: **PG-ish, not quite PG-13  
><strong>Warnings:<strong>under-age drinking, character death, angst  
><strong>CharactersPairings:**mentions of Charity, hints of Charity/Miguel, Kay/Miguel, some Reese/Jessica, mentions of Sam, Grace, Luis  
><strong>Summary:<strong>prompt: 2 a.m. _She dreams Charity never comes to Harmony, Charity doesn't exist, and Miguel finally wakes up, sees what's staring him in the face, his best friend, head over heels, in love with him_

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><p><em>She dreams Charity never comes to Harmony<em>, _Charity doesn't exist, and Miguel finally wakes up, sees what's staring him in the face, his best friend, head over heels, in love with_ _him_.

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><p>They go to Senior Prom together.<p>

Reese takes Jessica, and they double (_Mom takes probably hundreds of pictures, and Dad gives the boys __**the talk**_).

Kay spends half the night mercilessly teasing her kid sister, the other stealing (_half-smile_) glances at Miguel in his tux, only to find him staring right back at her with soulful dark eyes that glitter and shine in the low lights.

They sneak away during the coronation of Prom King and Queen, into the shadows of the still young night, and Kay's hair whips around her face, her arms tight around Miguel's waist, as his motorcycle zips around the curls and curves of Coast Road, the sea salt air stinging their skin.

She's still breathless from their dash up the Lighthouse's winding stairs (_so many_) when Miguel kisses her, and the rest of her hair slides like a waterfall through his fingers as he frees it from its (_hidden_) pins. His heart beats strong beneath her trembling fingertips, his skin warm and familiar (_yet not_) and soft as she slides her hands beneath his snow white shirt. His bow tie tickles against her breastbone as she raises herself to the tips of her toes and kisses him more deeply, sighing into the gentleness of his mouth. She pulls back to stare at him when the light sweeps back around, reads echoes of her own uncertainty in his eyes. She finds his hand then, tangles their fingers together, and smiles (_whispers, I love you_).

They watch the waves break against the shore—even spy a few ships (_tiny, intermittent shimmers reflected against the blackness of the night_), and hold each other close as the hour advances and her curfew grows closer.

Miguel delivers her safely to her doorstep (_just a few minutes before the headlights of Reese's dad's old clunker appear at the end of the street_) with a gentleman's kiss to her cheek and a promise in his parting smile.

Jessica giggles her own goodnight to Reese as the rumbling purr of Miguel's bike recedes into the distance, and Kay's eyes widen when she smells the alcohol (_the punch, it was spiked, I swear, is Reese's only defense_) on her kid sister's breath and hears her dad's restless movements inside the house (_sometimes, having a law enforcement officer as your father really, __**really**__ sucked_). She pushes Reese toward his car, grabs Jessica by the hand, and tugs her inside and up the stairs before their father even has time to pretend he was doing anything else but waiting up for them.

In their shared bedroom, it takes Kay only a few moments to give up the struggle of helping Jessica out of her dress and into her pajamas (_Jessica is asleep before her head even hits her pillow anyway_). She settles for tucking the covers snugly around Jessica's shoulders and changing into her own pajamas. She wraps her arms around her pillow and lets herself be lulled to sleep by the slow, comforting beat of her own heart and the (_tomorrow, forever_) promise in Miguel's smile.

Kay dreams sweet dreams, dreams full of (_im_)possibility.

_Of wedding cakes and thrown bouquets—it's your turn, Jess; of little girls with dark curls and impish smiles—Maria, Maria, Maria; of little boys with solemn, wise brown eyes—did you know I first fell in love with your daddy on a ball field; of tomorrow's and next week's and next year's—I want it to be like this between us always, never forget, never, never, never…_

She wakes to the sound of her sister's soft sobs, the shadow of her mother moving toward her. With a groan, she rolls onto her back, fumbles for the chain of her lamp, and blinks against the harshness of the light (_and Jessica's raccoon eyes_). Her mother's eyes are soft and sympathetic with tears, and Kay sits up, flings her covers back, shakes her head before the words have a chance to start spilling out of her mother's mouth. It's all a jumble anyway, one big, meaningless tangle of words that assault her ears (_never made it home last night, Honey…Luis got the call…2 a.m…some kids…been drinking…never saw him…no pain…Eve says he probably died instantly_) as she moves toward the bedroom window, peeks out at the midnight sky growing gray around the edges, preparing to welcome the hesitant dawn. She feels her mother's hand rest low against the small of her back, and the first tear spills down her cheek when something catches her eye, and in that moment, she knows, just _knows_ all she has left is yesterday and the unfulfilled promise of that smile.

Miguel's crumpled bow tie rests next to her wilting corsage on her desk, and Kay can feel her (_breaking_) heart echo with his absence.

_I love you too. _

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><p><strong>Okay...apparently, I can't resist starting new stories when I should be working on others (I actually <em>was<em> attempting to write a ficlet for my Passions Alphabet Ficlets; this was the _unintended _result). **

**LOL!**

**This fic, if anyone is even remotely interested, may have a few more chapters, a few more scenarios where Kay almost had it all added. **

**Let me know if that's something you'd be interested in (_please_). **

**Feedback is my inspiration; it is much loved and adored; in short, to be a little dramatic, it is my lifeline. ;)**

**Thanks so much for reading!**

**And remember...let me know if you're interested in reading more. **


	2. Chapter 2

**~2~**

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><p><strong>Title: <strong>**(**_Almost__**) **__Had It All  
><em>**Rating: **PG, PG-13 if I'm really reaching. ;)  
><strong>Warnings:<strong>angst, implied sexual situations.  
><strong>CharactersPairings:**Kay/Miguel but still very much Charity/Miguel, mentions of Sam/Grace, Ethan/Theresa, Sheridan/Luis, Jessica, Noah, Paloma, more  
><strong>Summary<strong>**: **prompt: children. _She dreams Miguel marries her, and they raise their baby (a daughter) together_.

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><p>She dreams Miguel marries her, and they raise their baby (<em>a daughter) <em>together.

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><p>Her newborn daughter fits in the cradle of her arms <em>just so, <em>the dark fringe of her lashes half-crescents against her smooth, satin cheeks, and Kay palms and counts the tiny, perfect fingers, one by one, until the small pink bow of her daughter's mouth puckers in indignation and makes her smile. There's awe in her voice (_in her searching eyes_) when she beckons Miguel from the shadows, and the small stone in the ring on her finger catches the low light of the bedside lamp and twinkles back at her.

Miguel sits awkwardly in the space Kay makes for him, and he frowns when he finds his hands suddenly full and the little being blinks up at him, wraps her tiny fist around his pinky finger, and chuffs quietly in contentment.

Kay bites her lip, watches them together for a long while, (_reluctant_) father and (_innocent_) daughter, and her fingers clench together in their desire to reach out and touch Miguel, share her joy, but they stay by her side, smooth out the wrinkles in her sheet instead. Gradually, she feels Miguel start to relax somewhat beside her (_there's protectiveness in the careful, iron clasp of his hands around the small squirming bundle_), and she feels her eyes start to grow heavy, feels the shadows lengthening and calling to her as sleep starts to seduce her tired body. As she starts to drift further toward dreamland, Miguel starts to whisper to the baby girl in his arms, and Kay catches one word, a name actually, and smiles.

_Maria. _

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><p>Maria grows, grows, grows.<p>

She's barely out of diapers, traipsing after Miguel on small feet that totter (_Daddy, me go)_ when Charity comes back to Harmony (_back to the home that was never hers to start with_) for Ethan and Theresa's wedding.

Her mom offers Charity her old room, like nothing ever happened, like _Maria _never happened, and it feels a little bit like there's an open, sucking hole from the sharp edges of a knife in Kay's back as she watches her mother fuss over Charity, listens to the pair of them twitter over college and other dreams gathering dust in Kay's heart of hearts.

Charity gets tears in her blue eyes when she first sees Maria.

Kay wants to scream when she sees Jessica's arm go around Charity in comfort, but she doesn't. She holds all her screams inside, where they beat painfully against her ribcage, bruise her heart. At night, she curls herself around her little daughter (_Maria, Maria_) and lets the soft crown of dark hair soak up her silent tears while Miguel sleeps next to (_an ocean apart_ _from_) her. The ring on her finger doesn't feel so much like a promise now as a symbol of duty fulfilled, its sparkle a (_cruel_) trick of the light, and when morning dawns on Ethan and Theresa's big day, she feigns sickness, unable to bear such happiness in the face of her own discontent.

Miguel brings her a leftover piece of wedding cake (_the frosting is too sickly sweet_) and kisses her, long and slow, with his eyes closed (_she knows he imagines blond hair, a more tentative touch) _and his hands in her hair.

He murmurs something about Maria and Sheridan and Luis, and his kisses taste too much like alcohol and resignation to Kay, but she clings to the closeness she craves and lets him press her into the bed below, lets him _pretend, _if only for one more night. She pretends too, that her cries are of satisfaction (_not sorrow_) and he gathers her close for reasons other than guilt as he lets the numbness of sleep drag him down. She pretends until she (_almost_) starts to believe, and then, she sleeps too.

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><p>She names their second daughter <em>Esperanza<em>; _Hope_ is so overdone, and Kay likes the way the name rolls off of her tongue better anyway.

Maria calls her baby sister _Panda (Kay can't quite make heads or tails of the 3 year-old's logic, but her little girl is every bit as determined as she ever was, and she won't make her own parents' mistakes, try to mold Maria into another little person other than herself, so…)_, and it sticks.

Miguel indulges their daughter, and his eyes crinkle at the corners as he tickles the infant's tubby belly and makes her laugh.

Maria joins her sister, and it's a happy sound, the two of them, so at odds to Kay's own emotions, so different (_so free_) from the strained noise that makes her feel like she's choking when she forces it out of her own throat. She turns back to the dishes in the sink before her, scowls at the dark ring Maria's forgotten glass of chocolate milk has left on her study guide, and raises a tired hand to her forehead. She isn't even aware that there are tears streaming down her cheeks until Miguel reaches past her and turns the water back off.

Maria's mouth is open, her happy chatter on pause, and her large eyes mirror her father's as they stare at Kay.

The baby continues to coo and giggle to herself (_sometimes, Kay thinks Miguel wished her into existence, this child, this baby that gazes at her with Charity's serene sweetness_) while her mother splinters into pieces just a few feet away.

Miguel doesn't touch her, but he doesn't let her out of his sight either as he takes out his cell phone and dials a number (_Kay can barely make out her father's tinny voice on the other end of the connection_). The conversation is a faraway roar of insensible words to Kay as the tears continue to stream down her cheeks, and in her husband's eyes, she can read worry, empathy, and something else that makes another little piece of her heart die as they wait (_you asked for this, it whispers; welcome to my hell_). She barely registers the slamming of a car door outside, doesn't notice her mother shepherd the girls out of the room, doesn't look back up, focus her cloudy eyes, until she feels her father's hand take her own and he whispers her name (_with all of the love she's been missing_).

"Kay?" Sam tries again, tucks his daughter's hair behind her ears. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Daddy," is all Kay manages.

For once, it is enough.

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><p>In the blink of an eye, Maria is seven and Grandpa Sam's <em>Panda Bear<em> is four. Kay's little man, Alex, is just beginning to babble.

It's the 4th of July, and the kids are scooting across her parents' backyard, sparklers waving wildly from their sticky (_with melted ice cream_) hands. Fireworks are lighting up the sky, somewhere far away, and Kay can barely hear the faint whine of mosquitoes buzzing past her ears as she rests her head back against the Adirondack chair, Alex's fuzzy dark curls tickling her chin.

Luis and her uncle Hank are each working on their 2nd beer (_maybe her uncle Hank was on number 3; Kay had lost count_), giving Ethan a hard time like always, and there's comfort in the familiarity of their teasing (_though it hadn't always been that…teasing_). Across the way, Sheridan and Theresa have their heads together, discussing baby names for the twins God (_and fertility drugs_) had finally seen fit to bless Luis and Sheridan with, and Theresa and Ethan's toddler daughter is dozing with her cheek pressed up against her mother's bare leg, Theresa's hand rhythmically stroking her caramel cloud of hair. Noah's late, as usual; Jessica had disappeared on some mysterious errand little more than an hour ago. But the rest of the gang's there, the rest of the people that make up her childrens' family.

Kay's eyes find Miguel (_just as they always have_), and she strokes Alex's soft hair, feathers a thoughtful kiss across his cheek, as she studies him, this (_boy she forced to become a_) man she married, this man she can't find it in herself not to love, no matter the years that have taught her he isn't all she thought he would be, isn't all she wishes he were.

Miguel's kneeling, saying something to Little Ethan that makes the young boy smile, and he stands back up, sends him on his way, to her (_in charge of the __**real**__ fireworks_) father. He glances her way, smiles at their son (_all sprawled limbs, chugging furiously at his pacifier as his dark eyes dart to and fro, always taking __**everything **__in_), and Kay smiles back, shifting forward and pointing him out to Alex.

Alex's little fingers clench and release her own, and Kay knows the moment her son sees his father, feels his little body go rigid with recognition, and she bends in a futile effort to capture the pacifier that tumbles from the little boy's lips in his excitement. Her fingers fumble blindly in the grass for only seconds before Maria streaks past her, her little sister not far behind, and the pacifier is forgotten with her sister's arrival (_and…_).

"Charity."

The name forms on Miguel's lips like a benediction, soft and reverent and awed, and Kay turns in her seat, her son puckering up with dismay. Slowly, she stands, further jostling Alex in her arms, and her own greeting is lost in the humid July night, strangled from her in betrayal (_her mother and her sister blanket Charity on either side, and it's hugs and kisses and missed-you-so-much tears between the three of them). _Her daughters stare up at her (_their_) cousin with curious admiration like little paper dolls, and there's that feeling again: she's merely a shadow in the wake of Charity's golden sun, a faint echo of Charity's song. Her eyes drop self-consciously to the barbecue stain on her decade-old tee-shirt, and her hands itch to straighten the messy ponytail knotted at the nape of her neck. Her breath hitches in the back of her emotion-clogged throat, and her sweet, sensitive little man starts to cry, fat, salty crocodile tears that dampen Kay's neck and breastbone and, for a moment, the cousins lock eyes.

A thousand words are spoken in that single glance.

Then Noah arrives (_with his very own surprise guest_), swoops in to rescue his nephew, and the cobweb-thin string traveling between the two women snaps. The hugs and kisses are repeated, this time for Paloma, and Kay melts into the background, takes it all in, and realizes something as stars shower over her in a spray of fireworks…almost doesn't count.

She may wear Miguel's ring, share his name, be the mother of his children.

But Charity will always own his heart.

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><p>She dreams Miguel marries her, and they raise their baby (<em>a daughter) <em>together.

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><p><strong>Apparently, I'm in an angsty Kay mood. Go figure. ;)<strong>

**Sorry for the mini-hiatus. **

**April was a rough month for this Alabama girl, but though some people (family and friends) I know were hit hard by the terrible tornadoes, I can say, on the whole, we were luckier than most, and for that, I am extremely thankful. Still, circumstance (no power for several days and a deader than dead laptop battery) and a lack of desire (had a major priority shift), not to mention my line of work, haven't been all that conducive to me updating any of my stories lately, and I apologize again. **

**I'm still plugging away on my other fics, most notably _Pieces_. I haven't managed to get the next chapter to that to my liking (just right) yet, but hopefully, I'll have more success by this weekend. If not, you may get another installment of this little fic, angsty though it is.**

**;)**

**I wasn't a super-fan of Charity/Miguel back in the day, nor did I hate them. I had more of a meh attitude toward them in general, thought they could have been a better story than they actually were if a few things had been tweaked. Kay has always been the far more intriguing character, in my opinion, whatever pairing. Not that I wished for her to be this unhappy; I'm working with a theme here. **

**Anyway...rambling aside, I hope you are enjoying this story, and the different versions/scenarios where Kay (Almost) Had It All. **

****Feedback would be amazing!****

**Thanks so much for reading!**


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